


Jealous

by sagelumi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Akaashi Keiji is a Little Shit, Anger Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Begging, Blood Kink, Bokuaka - Freeform, Bokuto is horny for honorifics, Dom Bokuto Koutarou, Edgeplay, Embarrassment, Jealousy, Light BDSM, M/M, Masochism, Porn with Feelings, Pro Volleyball Player Bokuto Koutarou, Public Claiming, Sadism, Sexual Violence, Slut Shaming, Switch Akaashi Keiji, nsfwbokuakaweek2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:47:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27967064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sagelumi/pseuds/sagelumi
Summary: Akaashi wasn't one to be a brat in public.  Usually, he tried to reserve his misbehaving for home, but he couldn't help himself when his idiot of a boyfriend was callously teasing him for all to see.Or alternatively,Akaashi gets what he deserves.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Akaashi Keiji/Sugawara Koushi
Comments: 4
Kudos: 232
Collections: NSFW BokuAka Week 2020





	Jealous

From the time that they first got together, Akaashi predicted that Bokuto’s sexual preferences were something that needed to be carefully unpacked with time. The first couple of nights they spent together were relatively vanilla to say the least, something that both comforted and disappointed Akaashi. It’s not that the sex was bad, per se, but as someone who liked to get rough, he was unpleasantly surprised by the lack of experimentation upon their first bedroom encounters. In an attempt to make himself feel better, he concluded that he could learn to be perfectly fine with whatever sex Bokuto presented to him, simply because he loved him. 

As their time together continued, Akaashi approached every sexual encounter they had with caution, trying not to get overwhelmed by the urge to absolutely destroy the beautiful man beheath him. He vividly remembered the slow yet crashing wave of disappointment that flowed over him when the thought that perhaps he would never be able to hear this man’s voice mixed with both pain and pleasure seeped into his mind. 

This self proclamation, however, did not stand true for very long. After roughly a half a dozen times of sleeping together, Keiji began to second guess himself following a string of curious events. The first time he was caught off guard was when Bokuto had brought him to meet his friends at one of their regular dinners. Everything was going smoothly; conversation was flowing and he took a genuine liking to one person in particular, a black haired man with a snide grin that seemed to compliment Bokuto’s personality perfectly. 

As they gradually prepared to leave and headed for the door, Akaashi felt the gentle hands of his boyfriend touching his shoulders as he rubbed up behind him, pressing his surprising hard on into the curve of Keiji’s ass and lingering for just a little longer than he should have. When pestered about it later, Bokuto waved it off under the guise of needing to get by him in the small space. He was prepared to accept the answer and dismiss the encounter as a one-off, until heard Bokuto utter one simple yet very effective word under his breath: _slut._

It only escalated from there. Bokuto, who Akaashi had seen as a very vanilla man generally, no less a top, suddenly began to do these types of things frequently; everything from rubbing Keiji’s inner thigh under the table or whispering dirty words into his ear at the aforementioned dinners with friends, mercilessly edging him for hours solely to watch him squirm, pulling his hair just a little harder than usual. 

And with that, he realized he was completely wrong. The man who had considered himself to be a top found himself absolutely crumbling under Bokuto’s near magical touch. He found himself wailing and screaming for the cock he so desperately needed, for permission to cum, for everything.

Bokuto was an absolute sadist. And Akaashi loved it. 

And here he was a year later, sitting beside the very same man who taught him how to completely fall apart, observing the crowd around him. 

It wasn’t very often that Bokuto invited Akaashi to team events-not because he didn’t want him there, but because he was very aware of Keiji’s preference to avoid large social gatherings. This particular banquet, however, was incredibly important: it was one of the only yearly opportunities the players had to make their impression on sponsors. In short, Bokuto knew that when this time rolled around, he would desperately need his emotional support, his pillar, his otherworldly boyfriend. Of course, Keiji agreed to come.

Gradually, the end of the evening was approaching and many of the important figure heads had made their way home, leaving only the players and their significant others at the dining hall. Keiji found himself squished into a booth he had deemed far too small for 5 professional volleyball players to be sitting in, thoughts fleeting as he attempted and failed to remain part of the conversation flowing over the table. 

His attention was quickly brought back to the present, however, by Bokuto’s large hand creeping onto his thigh, fingers playing with the inseam of his jeans. He snapped his gaze up to meet the golden eyes that made him melt unlike anything else. Bokuto smirked down at him, awaiting a response that Keiji did not yet have. He would do this from time to time; pick up on Keiji’s distance and tease him about it mercilessly, just to see the light shade of pink that he so adored dust over his lover’s cheeks. 

“Sorry, what?” Keiji started, “I didn’t quite hear you.”

“I said,” Bokuto sneered, “Isn’t that right, babe?”

With his pink blush fully changing to red, Akaashi decided that it was probably for the best if he agreed with Bokuto, as to not send him into a mood or be forced to listen to a recap of the whole conversation. He decided to not think about the possibility that Bokuto could have said something very ridiculous or embarrassing, and put some faith into his boyfriend. 

“Yeah, sure,” he muttered, looking down with his embarrassment now evident. He looked around the table, noting the curl of the other player’s lips as Bokuto looked back at them, smile beaming, unbelievably proud of himself. 

It was Kuroo-because of course it was-that spoke next, making direct eye contact with Akaashi.

“Well, ‘Kash, I didn’t know you were that whipped for him.”

He felt Bokuto stifle a laugh beside him, the hand on his thigh edging ever closer to his cock, teasing in both actions and words. He silently begged for him to let up, stop the teasing, let him off the hook just this once. It wasn’t like Keiji had done anything to get himself into this situation in the first place-he just so happened to be at the hands of his horny boyfriend.  
“Of course he is. This isn’t news, Kuroo,” Atsumu grinned.

As if he didn’t feel bad enough, the simple yet snide comment from Atsumu had his mind reeling. How much had Bokuto told them about their sex life? Was he blabbing about all of the different ways he’s marked Keiji as his own, or was the comment alluding to their relationship as teammates in high school? 

He tried to think of something to say, anything, really, but his mouth only hung slightly agape, the shock of the conversation fully setting in. The men around him snickered slightly, evidently enjoying watching Keiji squirm. Of all the confusion settling in his brain, Keiji scrambled for an answer. He tried, he really did, but as the dust settled, only one thought was branded into his brain:

_Huh. So he wants to play dirty, then. Two can play that game._

Akaashi wasn’t one to be a brat in public. Usually, he tried to reserve his misbehaving for home, but he couldn’t help himself when his idiot of a boyfriend was callously teasing him for all to see. He turned to the man next to him, muttering soft apologies of ‘excuse me’ and ‘pardon me’ as he shuffled out of the booth, hearing Bokuto groaning behind him.

“Aw c’mon, ‘Ji, we’re just fucking around with you!”

Ignoring the calls behind him, he peeked around the rest of the banquet hall, scanning all of the groups conglomerating along the floor. He cautiously eyed the guests, his gaze falling upon a group of incredibly intimidating men, the type that Keiji would be a little afraid to even try to talk to. He then looked towards Sakusa and someone else who he didn’t quite recognize standing awkwardly beside each other. He decided to avoid both groups at all costs, sighing and hoping to any God there may be that there would be somewhere in this hall that he could fit in. 

And then he saw him. 

Standing directly under the chandelier in all of his grey haired glory was Sugawara, a man that Keiji had admittedly always been incredibly attracted to. They had only really met in passing; sharing small waves while Bokuto and Daichi were talking, while playing, while cleaning up. But that didn’t stop Akaashi from sneaking looks when he could. His hair was glinting under the warm light, shadows casting perfectly on his features; looking so gentle, but at the same time, so hardened. His attention was turned to Hinata and Kageyama who stood beside him, arguing about God knows what. Keiji continued to observe the three, noticing the gentle way in which Suga placed his hand on Hinata’s shoulder, trying to diffuse the altercation. Even in high tension situations, the way he carried himself was utterly and completely alluring. 

Without fully thinking about it, Keiji started walking towards them, his revenge plan in bloom. He could and would show Bokuto that he isn’t ‘whipped’, not in the slightest. How dare he try to embarrass him like that in front of people he barely even knew. How dare he.  
Sugawara glanced upwards as he approached, shooting him a gentle smile. Hinata and Kageyama greeted him with the utmost respect and aptly apologized for their behaviour, earning a hum of approval from the older. After a small bit of mundane conversation, they decided to excuse themselves from the conversation, presumably to finish their argument. With a small wave over their shoulders, they were gone, leaving the two older men alone in the other’s company. 

“Sorry about that, Akaashi-kun. They’re still as irritable as always,” Suga lightly laughed, shooting him an apologetic glance. 

“It’s not a problem,” Keiji smirked. “Long time no see, Sugawara.”

Keiji extended a hand towards him, which was gladly accepted.

“It’s good to see you again.” Suga shined back with an especially beautiful smile.

“Oh, and by the way,” Akaashi grinned, speaking just loud enough Koutarou to hear his voice from where he was sitting, “Call me Keiji.”

And that’s when the games began.

For the next half hour or so, Akaashi stood next to Suga, touches lingering just a little too long whenever their arms brushed together. He let his eye contact last longer than it should have, and every once in a while, he would bite his lip ever so slightly-likely not even enough to notice-as they made mind numbing small talk. 

He pretended that he didn’t notice Bokuto’s eyes boring holes into him, but he knew it was happening. He knew he was keeping track of his every movement, his every expression. But to put it simply, Keiji didn’t really care; two could play that game, after all. It wasn’t until he stole a glance in his lover’s direction that he realized just how much this was affecting him. With just one look, Keiji knew how much shit he was going to be in. 

The kind of look that hung on his face was a look that Keiji understood simply as a signal that he’d crossed the line. His eyes were darkened, harbouring more anger than he had ever seen in him. His hands were linked firmly together underneath the table, fingernails digging into his skin so harshly that he was surprised the skin hadn’t broken. In all their time together, Koutarou had proven himself not to be the jealous type; perhaps because Akaashi hadn’t given him the opportunity to be beforehand, but regardless, he never made any indication that he felt that way.

But now? Koutarou looked absolutely, unabashedly murderous

Suga aptly noticed the tension that was flowing and slightly removed himself from Keiji’s space, concerned eyes darting between the two men. His attempt to shoot an earnest wave in Bokuto’s direction was completely dismissed, the man’s eyes never once peeling away from Keiji. With a quick word to his teammates, Koutarou was standing up from the table and striding over to the spot directly under the chandelier where his slut of a boyfriend was standing. 

In a feeble attempt to lighten the mood, Suga smiled weakly at Bokuto as he approached. “Ah, Bokuto-san! It’s gr-”

“Hi,” he was quickly cut off, resulting in a look of shock forming on Suga’s face. “I think it’s about time we go home. You think so?”

Keiji swallowed, silently hoping that his fear wouldn’t be audible when he spoke. He nodded, glancing over to Suga and giving him a faint smile before responding. “Yes, let’s go home. Have a nice evening, Sugawara.”

With a hand on his lower back, Bokuto escorted him to the door with an arguable amount of force. He sent a wave to the group of men sitting at the table and walked both of them out the grand doors ahead of them, but not without shooting a deadly glare over his shoulder to Suga, shifting even closer to Akaashi as if to scream ‘mine’.

“Good choice,” Koutarou started, “because if you hadn’t said yes, I would have said some things to him that I don’t think you’d like.” His grip on Akaashi’s shirt tightened as he led him to the car door, opening it and gesturing for Keiji to enter. He hesitated, combing through his thoughts in order to find an appropriate response to everything that just so quickly happened. Before he could react, he felt his boyfriend’s strong hand snake up into his hair, pulling down on his strands with such force Keiji nearly stumbled.

“Get in the fucking car. Now.” 

He could feel Bokuto’s hot breath coming into contact with the skin behind his ear, forcing a shiver down his spine. He knew that when it came down to it, Kou was not opposed to making a scene in public solely because he didn’t care about the repercussions or the stares that would ensue; when he was punishing Akaashi, he was doing it-no matter the time or place. With this in mind, Keiji nodded, deciding that sinking into the seat was a much better idea than challenging the command. 

The car ride home was nearly silent, save for the sound of the rain on the windshield and the low hum of a music. Painfully aware of his own actions, Keiji stared out the window, heart aching but tongue deceiving him as he continued to bite back his own apologies. He couldn’t even look at the man he called his love, opting instead to eye the white knuckles that wrapped tightly around the steering wheel.

As they approached their building, Akaashi settled into the realization that this could go one of two ways; and as much as he hated himself for thinking it, he was conscious of the fact that this altercation could very well turn into something incredibly passionate and sexy. He desperately tried not to think of the other possibility, the one that left Keiji begging the love of his life to stay. Mind flickering to the incident in the parking lot, he allowed himself to hope for the best.

With Bokuto turning the key, they sat in complete silence for the first time since the very same morning, when Keiji woke up to saccharine gold eyes staring into his own, sunlight casting the most beautiful shadows onto two toned strands of hair. His reminiscing was aptly cut off by Bokuto-not speaking, but exiting the car; Keiji was genuinely surprised that the door hadn’t come off the hinges with the velocity with which he slammed the door. He knew that if he wanted to, he could probably stay in the car for the rest of the night. Ignore the issue, wallow in his self pity, let Bokuto blow off some steam. He truly did want that; but his desire to have Bokuto back in his arms overwhelmed everything else. 

Climbing the two flights of stairs to his building, he laced his hands together, picking at the skin surrounding his nails. Mindlessly picking was something he always used to do, a habit he kicked because he knew Bokuto hated seeing the cuts-he hated the way Akaashi always reverted to self destruction. But when anxiety overtook him, he couldn’t help it.

He opened the door, noting Bokuto still standing in the entrance, facing away from him. He bent down to untie his shoes, successfully getting one off before being abruptly grabbed by his shoulders, back forced against the door by strong arms. His eyes widened, having never in their many years together seen Koutarou this forceful, this angry. “Care to explain to me,” he started, eyes looking directly into Keiji’s, “what the fuck you thought you were doing back there?”

“I,” his mouth fell dry, but he forced himself to speak. “I’m sorry Koutarou, I’m so sorry.” He felt a strong hand shift from his shoulder, sneaking down to his collar and pulling him even closer than he already was. “You think I didn’t see you? Touching him? Flirting with him?” a weary laugh escaped his lips before continuing. “I saw you, Akaashi. You’re a fucking slut.” 

His throat tightened at the use of his family name, something that he hadn’t been called by him for over a year. With their faces only centimeters apart, he could see he hurt in Koutarou’s eyes. But at the same time, he would be lying if he didn’t see the insatiable lust that was just a little more prominent than the hurt, for the moment. 

In the blink of an eye, Koutarou pulled down harshly on his collar, bringing him to his knees. He was prepared to do anything and everything he needed to to please him, but found himself gasping as he started sliding against the carpet of their living room, pulled by Bokuto. He felt the fabric beneath him burning his legs, gasping for air as the front of his shirt came up around his neck and lightly choked him. He felt himself getting hard as his mind flashed to the thought of bruises littering his neck and bright red burns forming on his calves. But he didn’t dare speak a word. 

Approaching their bedroom, he was yanked upwards into a standing position before being thrown onto the bed, gasping for breath as Koutarou climbed on top of him, tearing his clothes off of him like an animal. He felt both of his boyfriend’s hands raking up his sides, fingers lightly brushing over his nipples, slowly working his palm up to the base of his throat. He squeezed the sides harshly, making tears form in Akaashi’s eyes. 

“If you don’t stop me right now, I’m going to break you.”

Unable to speak, Keiji simply nodded-his signal that Bokuto could do whatever the _fuck_ he wanted to him. 

“You sure?” lips brushed over the corner of his mouth, teasing effortlessly. “I might just bruise that pretty little face of yours.” 

And with that, he was pushed over the edge, falling fearlessly into the pit that was Bokuto.

“Please-”

He watched as Koutarou winded his hand behind him, preparing to land a smack directly on his cheek. Eyes wide, Keiji Instinctively threw his arms over his face, bracing himself for the impact. It wasn’t like he didn’t know this was coming, but the strength within his lover was nothing short of shocking every time.

_Fuck, he thought, I’m gonna pay for that._

“Oh, sweetheart”, Bokuto growled, with a hint of laughter in his voice. “You’re seriously going to keep being a brat?” 

Shifting off of him, Koutarou crawled over to the top corner of their bed, where metal handcuffs were still attached to the bedposts. 

“Well, if you’re going to be like that,” click, “Then I’ll get your fucking hands out of your face.” 

For some reason, the left one always hurt more than the right one, leaving Keiji to yelp when the cold metal of the second one was quickly wrapped around his wrist. Typically, Bokuto would take his time while cuffing him up, would rub the surrounding skin, even kiss it. But tonight, he took advantage of the pain Keiji was ever so audibly expressing. Smirking, he locked the cuff and squeezed it, making the cold metal sink deeper into his skin; nearly deep enough to draw blood. Letting his lips part, a scream belted through the room, earning a hum of pleasure from Bokuto. “Hurts, doesn’t it?”

Keiji nodded his head aggressively, deciding that opening his mouth would lead to him becoming a complete wailing mess; he knew that couldn’t happen yet, not with the level of pleasure he was already feeling. Looking up through tears, he was met with the searing pain of Bokuto’s hand meeting his cheek. Once. And again. And again, the loud smack accompanied by the moans and sobs of the man that was winning this dirty game only a mere hour ago. 

“Tell me, you whore,” Bokuto smiled down at Akaashi, malice in his eyes. “Tell me how much it hurts.”

A moan ripped from Akaashi’s throat, tears rolling onto the pillow beneath him. He looked directly into Koutarou’s eyes, biting his lip in order to harness the scream that he so miserably wanted to release. “It hurts! Oh my god, it hurts so much,” he smirked slightly, knowing exactly what his boyfriend wanted him to say. _“Bokuto-san.”_

A smirk splayed across Bokuto’s lips, a sign that he had done well. “Good boy. At least I didn’t have to spell that one out for you.”

He lowered himself in between Keiji’s thighs, rapidly sucking and biting at the skin right beneath his dick. It was still an absolute shock to him, but Kou always knew exactly where and how to be when it came to making Keiji moan like there was no tomorrow. He licked up the inner corner of his thigh up to the supple spot right beneath where Akaashi’s thigh met his groin, smirking as he bit harshly into it, marks guaranteed to reveal themselves at a later date. The satisfaction of feeling his lover pull against his restraints and the sound of his wailing went directly to Koutarou’s dick, completely hard and wanting nothing more than to flip his boyfriend over and fuck him absolutely senseless. But he was determined to teach him a lesson. 

The warm substance slowly trickled into his mouth, the taste of copper overwhelming-he was completely taken off guard, not realizing the strength he had actually put behind his bite. He gently pressed his tongue into the indents his teeth had left on pale skin, surprisingly enjoying the taste of the blood that now stained his lips. He let his tongue travel from the bottom of Keiji’s stomach until he reached the apex of his chin, hovering right above his lips. He felt the man jerk beneath him, trying to latch their mouths together desperately; he avoided the kiss all together, grabbing Keiji’s chin and squeezed the inside of his thigh as a warning. 

“If you wanna kiss me so bad, lick it off.”

He took great pleasure in seeing Akaashi’s eyes widen at the request, hesitating to follow through on the order. He pulled away teasingly, attempting to go back to work on the thighs he so much loved, humming in approval when a low ‘no’ escaped his lover’s lips. Koutarou leaned back in, groaning as he felt the flick of Keiji’s tongue against his lips, grateful to be seeing the reaction of the taste of his own blood filling his mouth plastered onto the younger’s face. As the friction of his boyfriend’s thigh rubbing against his cock became nearly overstimulating, he watched the pleading eyes beneath him, making him cave and reward Keiji’s good behaviour much sooner than he would have liked to.

“You love this, don’t you,” He murmured against Akaashi’s lips. “Being a whore, having me hurt you. But you realize this isn’t just for fun, right?” He moved to the crook of his neck, slowly sucking. “This is your punishment for being a dirty slut.”

Akaashi gasped at the words, unable to find any air to breathe. “So”, Bokuto continued. “Prove to me that you’re sorry.”

Neither of them were surprised when he quickly began to stumble over his words, jumbled up apologies escaping his lips. He gripped onto Bokuto’s forearms, tears once again spilling from the corners of his eyes. He would do absolutely anything in this moment to prove himself, to prove his love. Bokuto knows this.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry for being such a whore, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I promise I won’t do it again!”

Bokuto hummed at the words, only slightly satisfied. “Maybe I should start making you wear your collar everywhere you go. Let everyone know that you’re my property. Maybe then you’d keep your whore mouth to yourself.”

He leaned back to unzip his pants, Akaashi whining at the loss of contact, gazing up at him like he was God himself. He slowly took off his belt, placing it on the bed with a knowing look making itself present on Keiji’s face before stripping the rest of his clothing. 

He reached over gingerly to their bedside drawer where the collar resided, pulling out a container of lube in the process. He reached up to grab the man beneath him by the neck, choking him full force and sliding the collar under his neck. He kneeled back on the bed, admiring the way the black, diamond encrusted leather contrasted with his silky skin. He allowed himself to be tender for only a moment, leaning down to bite Keiji’s earlobe, whispering how beautiful he was. But only for a moment.

He grabbed his belt from its resting spot on the bed, warming up the leather between his hands.

“Ready?” 

Keiji only nodded, knowing his words would come out completely incomprehensible. 

He swiftly lashed the belt against the inside of Akaashi’s thighs, watching as his back arched perfectly, leaving his whole body on display: his beautiful legs, his face, his cock, absolutely throbbing. His skin was littered with bruises and bites on every part of his body, travelling as far up as the crevice where his neck met his jaw. His pride blossomed, leaving a warm pool in his stomach as he thought about marking Keiji as his own.

“You may wanna cover up after this, love. Or maybe not, maybe I want them to see,” he breathed, hiking one of Akaashi’s legs over his shoulder and grabbing hold of his dick. “Let them all know that you’re my slut, and no one else’s.”

“Oh my god, finally” Keiji moaned, leaning into the touch, desperate for release. Bokuto opened his mouth to reprimand him, the damn brat, but shut it quickly once the thought of torturing him more than he already had flooded his mind. Hand working his dick, he let Keiji’s leg fall back to the bed as Koutarou lowered his head to his balls, sucking as the man beneath him moaned. He knew that he wouldn’t have to work hard to make him cum, seeing as he had been a disaster for the past twenty minutes underneath him. His thoughts were only validated when Keiji let out a breathy “I’m so close, please Kou.”

He removed his mouth, giving the head of Keiji’s dick a tight squeeze. “Who?”

A whine escaped his lips, mixed with pleasure and pain. “Bokuto-san, please.”

Satisfied, he went back to work on his balls, stroking him carefully as to not let him cum. Pre-cum spilled all over his hand, dripping onto Akaashi’s stomach; he removed his mouth only to lick it off. 

Peering up, he saw his lover’s face tangled in pleasure. ‘Not for long’, he thinks to himself. 

Smirking, his hands and mouth abruptly left Akaashi’s cock, a look of absolute disbelief plastered across his boyfriend’s face. “Fucking brat. Will you ever learn?” 

He reached again to the cuffs, unlocking them and observing the angry red marks; especially around the left wrist, where he suspected it might scar. With one final smack to the face, Bokuto picked up Akaashi like he was nothing and flipped him over. “Ass up for me,” he growled, landing a heavy smack to his ass as the other lifted himself up, displaying everything.

As a final punishment, Bokuto spent no time preparing him, and instead pushed into him without warning, eliciting a scream from his lover’s mouth. He decided he wouldn’t be completely heartless and gave Keiji enough time to adjust himself before slamming into him, completely unhinged. He raked his hands into Keiji’s hair, forcing him to arch his back even lower, giving full access to his hole. 

He couldn’t explain why, but the angrier he got, the better it felt. He loved the feeling of completely using Akaashi as a sex toy, carling less and less about his partner’s pleasure and more about his own. He did deserve this, after all. As he thrust harder, moaning and jumbled sentences fell out of Keiji’s mouth, tears streaming down his face as the pain and pleasure became uncontrollable. He shoved his face into the pillow, listening to the glorious sounds of Akaashi fighting for air amidst his moaning. He leaned down to sink his teeth into his shoulder while he quickened his thrusting, watching the skin become red and irritated, little droplets of blood forming, biting down even harder with uncontrollable bloodlust. Whatever he was feeling in this moment, he could deal with later. What he wanted now was to keep fucking his toy exactly like this, pushing him around with such velocity that he wouldn’t be able to walk properly the next day. He reached around Keiji’s front, grabbing hold of his cock, completely throbbing. “Do you think you deserve to cum?”

A sob escaped Keiji’s mouth. “No, Bokuto-san,” he started “but please. You’re killing me.”  
Bokuto removed his hand and slammed into his sensitive spot repeatedly, sounds of desperate moans filling the room. He heard Keiji’s final moan erupt from his mouth, his cum spilling all over the black sheets of their bed. He continued to thrust into Akaashi’s asshole as hard as he possibly could, not caring that he was becoming oversensitive, not caring about the feeling of Keiji trying to wiggle away from him, not caring about the small grunts of pain he was hearing. 

He smacked Keiji’s ass once more before burying himself deep inside Akaashi, cumming inside of him with white overcoming his vision. It almost felt euphoric, and he wondered if the sex between them had ever been this good before. He wiped a bead of sweat off his forehead, slowly pulling out and watching his cum leak out of his lover.

And just as fast as it had started, it had ended. Bokuto stood up, turning around and sitting on the edge of the bed. He felt the pressure of Keiji shifting into a sitting position, hovering behind him. There was a tense silence that fell over the room as Bokuto stood up and began to put his clothes back on; they both knew what was coming next, and neither of them knew if they wanted to face it. He sat down on the end of the bed once he was dressed, facing away from his boyfriend. 

Akaashi slowly crawled over to him, blanket wrapped around himself, an arm outstretched to touch Koutarou’s shoulder.

Seeing his side profile, Bokuto looked completely dejected, hands clasped together, eyes averted. But his voice broke through the silence, quiet and sad. “Why would you do that,” he asked, turning his face, but not yet meeting Akaashi’s eyes, opting to stare downwards towards the floor. Reaching for the right words to say for what felt like the hundredth time tonight, Keiji sighed. 

“Partly out of spite because you embarrassed me so much,” he gently placed a kiss on Koutarou’s shoulder, “partly because I knew it would make you jealous and I wanted your attention, partly because I knew this would happen.” His hands ran down his back, rubbing. “But at the end of the day I shouldn’t have done it. I thought of it more as a game I could just play. I never wanted you to be actually hurting.”

He reached around his lap to grab hold of Koutarou’s hand. “I’m sorry babe. I love you.”

Hesitantly, he accepted it and laced their fingers together. “Please never do something like that again. I’m sorry I embarrassed you, I was just teasing.” He finally looked up at his lover, eyes wide and adoring, but melancholic at the same time. “Being with someone as pretty as you, I can already see how badly everyone wants you. Please don’t give them the opportunity to take you from me. I want you all to myself, want you to be mine.”

Lifting a hand up to his face, Keiji smiled softly at him. “I promise you I won’t. I’m yours and only yours. Forever.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

The rest of the night went smoothly. They cleaned up, cuddled up and watched a movie, completely inseparable. Akaashi came to terms with the fact that he would, in fact, have to keep covered up for a while, which meant pulling out all of his turtlenecks despite the fact that it was only early September. But it’s not at all like he minded, in fact it was quite the opposite; he would see himself in the mirror, finger prints branded into his neck, bite marks following, and get a little bit hard every time. 

As he came home from work the next evening, he entered the foyer of their home to a surprisingly empty scene. He slipped off his shoes and walked into the kitchen, hoping to find Koutarou cooking dinner or watching TV, but instead found a darkened room. He turned on the light, noticing the small black box wrapped with a gold ribbon sitting on the counter. A note was attached. 

“Late practice. Be home tonight. You’d better be wearing this by the time I get home.”

He placed the note back down on the table skeptically, eyeing the box. Fingers trailing over the ribbon, he pulled and took the lid off of the box, revealing the contents of the inside. A small and delicate gold chain laid on top of the small cushion, with a decently-sized cursive K looped onto it. On the bottom of the letter lay a single sapphire gem; it was a small touch, but having Koutarou’s birthstone on it made the distinction that Keiji wasn’t wearing the necklace as a symbol of himself, but rather one of ownership. He smiled, flipping the necklace over, admiring the beauty of it. It wasn't until he ran his finger along the back of the gold letter that he noticed there was more engraving. Brows furrowed, he looked closer and noticed four little words:

‘Property of Bokuto Koutarou’.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! This is something I've been wanting to do for a long time, but never really got around to it. Hopefully more to come soon! <3


End file.
